


On the Road

by notjustmom



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, post series 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:22:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: What happened to House and Wilson after they went on the road...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly write Sherlock stories, mostly reworkings of their meeting and of their post Reichenbach reunion, and finally I have decided to turn my musings upon House and his Wilson. I believe that House might have written a journal, and at some point, he mails the journal to a friend shortly before Wilson's death....

January 1 

It seems appropriate that Wilson was fine through Christmas. He always loved it, in spite of his Jewish upbringing, I'm guessing it was easier for him to believe in the jolly old elf than god. Considering how god has treated him all these years, sticking him with me, and especially recently, I can see how he might have a problem with the big guy upstairs. 

We found a beautiful place by the beach in September, after our long trek, it is a relief to be able to set up our chairs and watch the ocean do what it is supposed to do. I wish we had a little more time, now that we are finally resting, and all talked out, but I can tell by his long silences, and the looks he gives me that he's ready to go. I know he wishes I had someone else, a reason to keep going, but he knows me, knows that when he goes, I will go with him. I have been legally dead for eight months now, yes, he's made it eight months, three months longer than anyone expected. I think some of it is that we haven't been near a hospital since the day we left Boston. I was already a ghost, and he was on his way to becoming one...

I am sorry for the pain that was left behind us, but it was the only thing I could do. I have caused him so much pain in his life, most of it not purposely done, and yet, I have made choices that somehow always made his life harder, because as he said so eloquently at my memorial, I was 'a selfish ass, who made everyone miserable.' And yet, he chose to be my best friend, the only true friend I ever had. The only time he let me down was when he chose to give up instead of fight his cancer. But he knew how he wanted to die, and it wasn't by wasting away in a hospital, he has seen too many die that way at his hands. Tonight, after the sunset, I will wrap him up warmly and build a fire for him in the fireplace, make him a martini, and sit with him as we talk one last time...

 

May 1

We have stopped for the night in a little B & B somewhere in Vermont. He is already asleep, we have been on the road for a couple of days, camping one night, by a river, Wilson's idea, though I think he is now regretting the mosquitoes, but he hasn't complained, and he has forgiven me, for my bit of subterfuge, he always forgives so easily. He is exhausted, but happy I think, I hope so. I am following his lead, and I will try to learn to forgive myself before our travels are over, though five months seems a short time to do that.

 

10

We've sold the bikes, it's becoming obvious he needs more time to sleep, so we bought a cherry red, beautifully restored Mustang convertible. He began telling me about his father, he never really told me about him, only that he was the reason he went into Oncology. They spent a summer fixing up a '66 Mustang, it became Wilson's first car. He's teaching me how to listen. It's the oddest sensation, to hear of his life before he knew me, of the things he wanted and dreamed of, the things he knows he won't have. At first, he would speak quietly, uncertainly, maybe expecting me to make some smart ass remark, or interrupt him, but then he became a storyteller, and I could see his Mom and Dad, the sister I never knew about, she had died young, an accident, that he still feels responsible for, though it wasn't his fault. I'm beginning to see why he's the way he is. Tonight, when we're at dinner I'll make him, no I'll ask him if we can write him a Bucket List for the next six months. I want, no I need, six months with the very best friend any one has ever had. Yes, that's selfish, but he's the best person I've ever known, I hope he knows that.

 

Wilson's Bucket List:  
(may change or be added to)

See the biggest ball of twine. (Yes, really.) It appears to be in a place called Cawker City, Kansas.   
Visit Disneyland. (Oh, Wilson)  
Spend a couple nights in the French Quarter. (Now we're talkin')  
Find the best chocolate chip pancakes.  
" " " french fries.  
" " " apple pie.  
See the Pacific Ocean.  
Ride a horse without falling off.  
Watch all of the Star Wars movies again. Only the first three, the others don't count. (Amen)

 

"What else?"

"That's all I can think of at the moment."

"Should we see if they have apple pie?"

"Why not? Thank you, House."

"What for?"

"For being here with me."

"Where else - I don't want to be anywhere else, but here with you."

"I know. But thank you. I don't think I've said that enough."

"Anything else, boys?"

"Two pieces of apple pie."

"With or without ice cream?"

"With, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

13

 

It's nearly impossible to find the original format of the Star Wars trilogy without taking out a loan, so we made do with one of the 'digitally remastered' versions. He'd had a rough day, though he didn't say anything, he knows he can't hide how he feels from me, one of the many pitfalls of going on the lam with one's dead best friend, they know everything. He made it halfway through the first episode, though I'm not sure how, I always found it boring, and confusing, then he curled up and laid his head in my lap. He didn't speak, just closed his eyes as I cautiously placed my hand on his head, and I heard him sigh, as if he been holding his breath for days. I apologized and he shook his head, then asked me:

"Why are you sorry?"

I laughed. As he turned his head to look up at me, I couldn't think of all the things I could, every thing I should apologize for, and the only thing I could come up with was, "you deserve more than me. You should have a family to be here for you." 

"I tried. So many times, but, I wasn't enough, or strong enough, whatever - maybe if Amber had - no. I'm sure eventually she would have given up on me, or I would have done what I always do, sabotage it, in some way. You know, I don't blame you anymore."

I couldn't say anything. I just blinked at him, and he turned back toward the television. "It took a long time, but, I realized that being angry with you wasn't going to bring her back, and you are the only one - let's face it, House, you are the only who knows me well enough - you are my family. You know that, don't you? Thank you, for watching this with me, I know you find these movies stupid."

"I don't mind the second one so much, but the Ewoks in the last one are just moronic." I froze as he grabbed my hand, and pressed it against his chest, and as I focused on his heartbeat under my finger tips, I knew he was right. I was his family as much as he had always been mine. He had spent years trying to help me, not fix me, as others had, but he wanted to help me find a way to be happy, to find a purpose beyond myself, and the puzzles that had kept me going for so long in spite of the pain. And I realized sitting there with him, that I was happy, that my sole purpose was to be there for him, to make the next few months more than just bearable, but to give him everything I could to make him happy. I held him tighter and he sighed contentedly before he fell asleep.

 

14

 

He startled awake at two in the morning, surprised to find me there. "House? You've been sitting there this whole time?" I nodded, and he sat up and looked at me. "You need to sleep, and your leg - I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it matters. You matter. I know that there is a death certificate with your name on it, but you are still here, and I know you are still in pain. Come on, let me help you up. Don't look at me like that, I'm just dying, I'm not dead yet, and I can help you to bed, and you will sleep. We have a long drive ahead of us, remember?"

"You were serious about the ball of twine?"

"It's my bucket list."

"Right. Well, help me up, then, neither of us are getting any younger."


	3. Chapter 3

15

 

We left Vermont after a long breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes. Wilson gave them three out of five stars, but gave the waitress a wink and an enormous tip. Later he said that she reminded him of Amber, I decided not to ask how, and after we stopped to pick up a couple of baseball caps and sunscreen and we headed on the road towards Cawker City, Kansas. I took the first four hour shift and turned on the radio as he reclined his seat and nodded off as we turned out of the driveway and got on the road again. Two hours in, I pulled over to check the directions, and Wilson startled awake.

"Hmmm?" He looked over at me and smiled. "You're still here."

"Yeah, still here. Hungry, yet?"

"No, want me to drive?"

We switched seats and as I pulled my hat over my eyes, and settled in for a nap; I heard him sing along to "Sweet Caroline" on the radio, and I knew it was going to be one of our good days.

 

I woke up a couple of hours later, to find I was alone. I jumped out of the car to see Wilson standing, no, he was squatting, watching something intently in a shallow creek. I watched him for a few moments, before I took off my own socks and shoes and lined them up next to his, then I sat in the grass and put my feet in the water. It was colder than I expected and I yelped out in surprise. Wilson looked up at me and grinned, as I snapped a couple of photos. I don't know why I bothered, but I wanted an image of him happy, for those times when it got hard.

"I never took the time to just stop before. I always had to go somewhere, do something for someone else, and today, I decided to do something ridiculous for me."

"Why is it ridiculous?"

He glanced over at me and shrugged. "I'm a full grown man standing in a creek, watching the water, like I used to do when I was a kid. It shouldn't be so important, but it is."

"So what? We aren't on anyone's schedule, but yours, if you want to stand in a creek, it's no one's business but your own."

"There used to be more tadpoles."

I splashed over to him and squatted carefully next to him. "Yeah, there used to be more tadpoles." We spent a good hour just watching the water, until my leg finally gave out and he helped me to my feet.

"Ready for pie?" I asked, as we put our shoes back on.

"Yup. There's a diner a couple miles down the road." 

"You had this all planned out."

"Yup." He grinned at me as he threw me the keys, and I rolled my eyes at him, but was reminded again how lucky I was to be his friend. Soppy, sentimental, yes, but true. 

 

(Yes, Cameron, you were right all those years ago, when you said I was capable of loving someone. I've loved people in my life, you included, but Wilson was the one person who never gave up on me, as much as he may have wanted to, as hard as I made it on him to love me, he always found a way, and I think it was because he knew. He knows now, that there is nothing I won't do for him, because I love him.)

 

Wilson gave the apple pie five stars, though the coffee was terrible.


End file.
